"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Saturday, January 15, 2005

Despair

some days of making headway against the obstacles of things that must get done in order to do: oh for time to make a phone call or two: but tonight a student asks: do you like conferencing with us? and in absolutes of course yes: that's why I do it: days go by and the week loses me and the teaching keeps me grounded and meeting with people keeps me grounded and the writing keeps me grounded when weariness takes over though I worry it'll not pay off: then it does, on a Friday like today, when everyone gathers for an afternoon student reading and again for an evening student/faculty reading and again after, when people linger and gather over food and drinks elsewhere to keep the momentum going: sixty-five heads at least in that tiny coffee house on a friday night when you might assume there are better things to do: the closing act, stand-up comedy by somebody who admits he's never done something in front of people before, and they clapped: we clapped: don't know what kind of audience I have, he says: a generous one, I call out, hoping: and they did, they clapped and whooped: and he did: he made us laugh and he dispelled the nervousness weight in the room of writers being readers and serious readers and writers, and took us away from our smallest self-conscious selves towards some sympathetic knowing: not me but us: there at all in the first place because of others, though the others have to agree and approve and can we: be generous: I didn't know and was afraid but: he was so nervous and so brave: it was perfect: it worked: the work worked out: